


Impetus Divide

by EmeraldRain25



Series: The Divide [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Crossover, Ed and Al are framed for murder, Ed breaks into Hogwarts, Ed does not compete, Edward Elric Swears, Gen, Triwizard Tournament
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:00:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28888758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldRain25/pseuds/EmeraldRain25
Summary: Nicolas Flamel takes the wizarding world by storm when he appoints two apprentices. However, when the Flamel's turn up dead, the prime suspects are none other than his mysterious students with the golden eyes.Edward Elric and friends must learn to navigate the politics and secrets of Britain's Wizarding world, all the while searching for a way home.
Series: The Divide [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2118573
Comments: 12
Kudos: 69





	1. Lost and Found

**Prologue**

There wasn't a wizard alive in Great Britain that didn't know the name Nicolas Flamel or the events that had transpired at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry just three years prior. Given the wizarding community's aptitude for gossip, it should come as no surprise that hushed whispers had quickly made their way around. Although the minuscule details had been subjected to a considerable amount of exaggeration over the years, it was no secret that Nicolas Flamel had successfully created a philosopher's stone. Furthermore, thanks to the Daily Prophet, the general wizarding public was also distinctly aware that the stone had very nearly become the victim of an elaborate heist.

However, the rest of the story was merely brought together with snippets of telltale chatter, no doubt the by-product of a witch with too much time on her hands. After all, three first-year students saving the day was definitely a little out there, even for the most open-minded witch or wizard. These speculations even went a step further to suggest that Harry Potter had been personally involved. In the end, the only people who knew for sure what had transpired that day at Hogwarts had refused to comment, leaving many of the facts up in the air.

Nicolas Flame had since all but disappeared from the public's eye. Many believed he had chosen to retire with his wife to the countryside in France, carrying with them the rumors surrounding that night. It was why, after three years of radio silence, that the first bit of news surrounding the elderly alchemist to pop up was met with the same flurry of attention as that night three years prior.

Amelia Bones took another sip of her coffee, glancing down at her newspaper. The front page was completely overtaken with bolded text that read ' **Nicolas Flamel Appoints Alchemy Apprentices'.**

All things considered, it was unsurprising to her that when the news broke, the wizarding world was taken by storm. Given his old age and public blackout, not a single soul had expected Flamel to take on an apprentice, let alone two. Even Amelia had found herself taken aback.

Roaring with the news, people had jumped at the chance to find out more about the Flamel's mysterious students. This proved harder than anticipated as even the craftiest of journalists failed to unearth anything beyond their names – Edward and Alphonse Elric.

Amelia set her paper down, reflecting over the buzz that had settled over the wizarding community in regards to the puzzling figures. Even the ministry had been unable to uncover any tangible facts. This, unfortunately, meant she was just as reliant on the mindless gossip fuelled by overzealous tabloid articles. The past two days at the ministry Amelia had made herself privy to the various snippets of conversations held in elevators or hallways. It was widely believed for the two apprentices to be merely children, which begged the question of schooling or lack thereof. The ministry had been unable to find records of their enrollment in any magical school on the continent. Perhaps one of the more curious pieces of gossip was related to the physical appearance of Flamel's apprentices; eyes of gold the rumors said.

But alas, as with any piece of spicy gossip, Amelia found that the fevered interest died down once a new scandal eventually broke. The airwaves went silent. The ministry left the subject on the back burner, until months later, with still no sightings of Flamel or his notorious apprentices, the wizarding world was once again rocked with news that no one could have expected.

Amelia sighed, running her hands over her face as she glanced down at her desk – a disarray of newspaper clippings and evidence reports. One page stood out from the rest.

' **Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel Found Murdered'.**

Amelia had been called into work only to learn that both Nicolas Flamel and his wife had been found dead in their countryside home. The main suspects in their death had been apprehended and brought in for questioning. Amelia glanced down at the photographs of their primary and only suspects, which happened to be none other than Flamel's infamous apprentices.

Edward and Alphonse Elric.

**...**

The local cemetery of Little Hangleton was eerily silent in the crisp night air. Not even a mouse dared to scurry across the ground as if for fear of being suffocated by the stench of death that seemingly protruded from the earth. The only noise that penetrated the night was the sound of shuffling footsteps. The graveyard groundskeeper moved between the mass of gravestones, his face was scrunched up in poorly concealed irritation.

"Damn kids," He stalked towards the Riddle House where mere minutes before, a loud crash of shattering glass had disturbed his dinner.

Faint promises of punishment fell from his lips as he entered the house, wasting no time in making his way up the creaking steps. It had been a while since he had dealt with a break-in, but he knew the routine well enough to know what to do. Usually, all it took was a bit of yelling, before whatever misfortunate kid scurried off back to town, tail between their legs.

Frank slowed his steps. Voices had quickly given away the presence of people in the drawing-room on the second floor. He had no problem chasing off a few kids, but the voices were clearly those of grown adults; one seemed to epitomize the sounds of a mouse - high pitched and squeaky- well the other sent shivers down Frank's spine at the frigid words laced with malice.

They were talking about murder.

"It must be Harry Potter," the voice hissed. The other occupants of the room went silent, and Frank could only assume they were unable to do much other than agree with the man. "Have you found me any more information on Flamel's apprentices?"

The first voice squeaked. Even though the walls, Frank could practically feel the fear that radiated from the room. "Ma-Master, I've looked everywhere, bu-but there's nothing. No one knows a-anything about the b-boys..."

"You disappoint me Wormtail."

Frank's focus was instantly interrupted as something scaly began to wrap itself around his leg. He froze, unable to bring himself to look down. It wasn't until the voices in the room raised in volume that Frank realized the drawing-room door had opened and the occupants were looking down the hallway at him.

"Perhaps you'd like to invite our guest in, Wormtail?"

The snake tightened its hold around his legs, but before Frank could even think about escaping, a green light filled his vision and the world around him faded away in a sea of black.

* * *

**Present Day**

The first thing Ed registered after waking up was his pounding migraine. Almost instinctively his hands shot to his head, a quiet groan falling from his lips as his muscles protested against the sudden movements.

"What the fuck," He whispered, voice faint and unsteady. It felt like the slicer brothers had decided to go another round at him, but this time with baseball bats instead of swords. Forcing his eyes open, he reveled at the darkness that surrounded him; wherever he was there were no windows or lights.

"Great, just great." He leaned his head back against the stone floor, trying to think back to the events that had led him there. Within seconds memories of the previous night flashed through his mind and he couldn't help the stream of curses that flew through his clenched teeth.

"Fucking wizards." He finished, remembering the ambush. The chill of the ground beneath him felt rough against his hands as he forced himself into a kneeling position. Carefully he began to feel his way around the room searching for anything that might signal a way out.

He cursed again as he came up with nothing; the walls were completely bare and the room was empty aside from himself. It was as if he was trapped in a gigantic box, and without being able to discern the make-up of the walls around him, he was stuck. Not to mention the damn wizards hadn't even given him a bed to lay on.

With a sigh, he sat back against one of the walls as he thought about the events that had led up to this.

* * *

**Five Months Ago**

Edward struggled to escape the black tendrils that pinned him to the ground. Mustang, Teacher, Al, and his father were also rendered motionless, each looking just as desperate to escape as the other. Ed glared up at the figure that leered over them, laughing at their struggle.

It felt as if all the air in the room was sucked away as everything they had worked so hard to prevent was set in the motion.

They were helpless to stop the country-wide array from being activated.

He was helpless.

Edward Elric did not like to be helpless.

Renewing his efforts to free himself Ed thrashed uselessly, the scattered wounds that littered his torso soaked the ground beneath him in a thin layer of blood. Around the room, the other five sacrifices were also fighting against their restraints.

"Watch as I open this planet's gateway!" The Dwarf in the Flask cried manically, dark red light filling the room.

"Al!" He screamed as the black tendrils snapped tight, the gate's eye splintering his stomach in two. "ALPHONSE!".

He could hear his brother screaming, but could only watch hopelessly as they were lifted up, the wind battering his face as the array intensified in power.

_Alphonse, Winry, Granny...everyone…hang on._

An explosion of white filled his vision.

The world around him faded away as an ocean of black swallowed him whole.

…

The next time he woke it felt as if he had been hit by a train. With a pained hiss, Ed slowly stood up, swaying slightly. Tall green grass circled him on all sides as various coloured flowers were scattered around the meadow that surrounded him; the setting sun blazed a breathtaking red as it painted the sky above a brilliant orange.

His daydreaming was broken by a soft noise a few feet away. His eyes widened as a mop of dirty blonde hair lifted itself from the grass.

For the second time in the past few minutes, Ed had his breath get taken away.

"Alphonse…" His eyes widened in disbelief at the frail form of his brother sat in front of him.

His brother.

Made of flesh and bone.

Without hesitation he launched forward, wrapping his arms around his frail frame. They sat like that for a few moments, Ed savouring the feeling of warmth that radiated from his brother's skin.

Alphonse looked just as shocked as he did, if not more. Ed sat back, watching as Al slowly raised a hand to stare at it in wonder. "My body...its back?"

So absorbed in their own thoughts, both of them failed to notice the astonished face of the man just a few metres away.

**…**

Nicolas Flamel has seen many interesting things throughout his many years on earth. He had lived through the rise and fall of both Grindelwald and Voldemort, along with the extended time of peace that accompanied the demise of the latter. As such, when his wife had let out a surprised cry from the front porch, Nicolas had been expecting the worst. However, he was unprepared for the sight that lay ahead of him. Glancing upwards, his eyes widened as the sky was split in two by a blinding flash of blue light in the form of a circle covered with what looked like ancient alchemic glyphs. He was even more unprepared to witness two bodies drop from the circle landing in the meadows in front of his house.

He hadn't realized he had frozen until a minute later when one of the figures slowly rose to their feet. The figure seemed dazed as he glanced around his surrounding, the cottage hidden from the figure's view by more than a few spells. Quickly trying to assess the situation Nicolas made his way forward to the edge of the wards that protected his property, wand at the ready in front of him.

Without hesitating he passed through the wards, emerging into the meadows beyond until he stood just a few feet away from the two strangers. Now that he had closed the distance between them, Nicolas realized that the two figures were merely those of two young boys. Even more shocking was the boy's appearance; one was covered from head to toe in wounds, his clothes ripped to shreds and barely clinging to his form. Peaking out from beneath the tattered shreds was a metal arm and leg, well beyond the technological advancement of either wizards or muggles. The second boy looked almost skeletal, naked except for the torn red jacket draped over him; it was a wonder the boy had the strength to lift his hand.

Clearing his throat, he watched as the boy with the metal arm and leg whipped around, throwing himself in front of the other child. Nicolas raised his hands in what he hoped relayed he meant no harm.

"Hello", he spoke, carefully studying the boy's reactions.

"Who are you?" Snapped the boy with the metal arm. The boy's eyes narrowed suspiciously as if he expected to be attacked.

"My name is Nicolas Flamel," He thought he saw a brief glimpse of disbelief flash across both boy's faces before being replaced with distrust.

"Don't bullshit me, old man," The boy hissed with an air of impatience.

Nicolas had to admit he was baffled at the reaction he received. Why would his name cause the boy to react so volatilely? "Whatever do you mean, child?"

"Nicolas Flamel died nearly 400 years ago." The boy explained slowly as if he were talking to a child.

Now that threw Nicolas for a loop. "I can assure you, child, I am very much alive and breathing," He chuckled heartily, not missing how the boy's eyes only narrowed farther. Sensing that the conversation was spiraling, Nicolas decided to try for a new approach. "Let's say we discuss this over a cup of tea, my wife is no doubt curious about our unexpected visitors."

He didn't give the child a chance to rebuke him before turned, making his way back to the cabin. He ignored the shocked exclamation from one of the boys as they passed the wards and the cottage was unveiled.

**…**

Ed hesitantly helped Al to his feet, cautiously following after the man well making sure his jacket covered Al's thin frame. For the life of him, Ed couldn't bring himself to trust the man. One second, they had been fighting for their lives, and the next they were suddenly in the middle of nowhere, with this geezer claiming to be Nicolas Flamel. If the man had wanted to be convincing, surely, he should have thought up a better alias.

He was broken from his musings as Al gave a surprised gasp from beside him. Ed snapped to alertness, his eyes widening slightly as he gazed upon a small two-story cottage in front of them. How had he missed that? Shaking his head, he chalked it up to exhaustion from the battle, but a pit had gradually settled in his stomach.

Something about all of this felt off.

Both the boys were ushered inside by a lady who looked as old as 'Nicolas' himself. Wrinkles surrounded gentle eyes that seemed to swim with years of untold secrets. The woman shut the door behind them with a soft click.

"Heavens on earth whatever happened to you two?" She whispered, staring at the boys in shock.

Edward just shrugged. Given the circumstances, it was probably best not to reveal too much to strangers.

"We were in an accident," Alphonse spoke up, quickly catching on.

The woman nodded, but something in her eyes told Ed that she didn't believe their story. "Alright, follow me. There's a bathroom down the hall where you two can wash up, we'll talk afterward."

As soon as the bathroom door was shut behind him, Ed turned to Al, making sure to keep his voice to a whisper so that they weren't overheard. "What the fuck happened? The last thing I remember we were fighting Father."

Alphonse shook his head, equally confused, "I honestly have no clue, how did I get my body back? What about your arm and leg?"

Ed didn't know how to reply. A quick tap against his limbs revealed they were still the same metal appendages they had been for years. Of course, he was overjoyed to see Al returned to his normal body, but what price had been paid? What had been exchanged? None of this made sense.

"I think for now we should stay here until we can find a way back to central. As suspicious as all this is, this man and his wife seemed nice enough. Besides, if they try something, we have alchemy," Al whispered.

Ed didn't want to admit it, but he knew Al was probably right, just like he always was. They would never make it to central in this condition. They needed time to recover and gather some intel on what had happened.

The rest of the evening went by fairly uneventfully. The Flamel's had offered up a guest room which they accepted, and after a short round of questions that eventually led to Al falling asleep on the couch next to him, they were shown their room with the promise to talk more in the morning.

Edward picked up Al's sleeping form from the couch, careful not to wake him, before carrying him to the room. Once inside, he gently laid Al down on the bed before climbing in next to his brother and wrapping his arms around Al's torso. The pajamas that had been lent to them felt soft against his bruised skin, helping to lull him into slumber and within seconds he had fallen asleep with his face buried in his brother's hair, thanking truth for at least returning his brother to him.

The rest could be figured out in the morning.

**…**

When Ed woke to the sunlight filtering inside the room, he buried his nose back into the pillows unwilling to leave the warmth of his brother's side. He glanced up as the door clicked open, suddenly alert. He had learned early on not to underestimate people based on their age. However, as Flamel's wife entered carrying with her a tray filled with an assortment of breakfast food, he forced himself to relax. She set the tray down on the bedside table, before withdrawing a small bottle of liquid. Ed glanced suspiciously at the liquid as she placed it beside the tray.

"This is for the other boy," she stated, ignoring his glare. "He is barely more than skin and bones. This will help him regain his strength. Make sure he drinks all of it," Ed nodded when she glanced up at him to make sure he had understood.

Once she left the room Ed glanced down at his brother, gently shaking him awake.

Alphonse stirred, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. "What smells so good?" He mumbled sleepily, eyes widening as he took in the wide assortment of breakfast items next to them.

"The old lady dropped these off," Ed explained, grabbing the tray and setting it in his brother's lap. "Well, dig in!" He watched happily as his brother's eyes glinted excitedly, thin arms instinctively reaching for one of the pastries.

"Cherry!" Al exclaimed, closing his eyes and letting the flavours wash over his tongue.

Ed could feel the tension in his bones melt away at the look of sheer happiness that encompassed his brother's face, and for a moment, he forgot all about the worries of being stuck in a foreign place.

At this moment the only thing that mattered was Alphonse.

"Try the juice next." Ed sat silently as his brother tried a few bites of each of the items on the tray, before carefully coaxing him to drink the liquid Flamel's wife had left.

Only once he tore his eyes away from his brother did he realize that two sets of clothes had been left at the end of the bed. Once, he had changed and then helped Alphonse to change, they made their way to the living room where both the Flamel's sat as if waiting for them. Ed helped Alphonse over to the sofa across from the two, before taking a seat beside his brother.

The old man glanced at them thoughtfully. "As I explained yesterday, my name is Nicolas Flamel, and this is my wife Perenelle. What is it that we should call you?"

Ed glanced at his brother, and after receiving a soft nod from Al, decided it was best not to lie to the two strangers who had helped them the night before. "This is my brother Alphonse Elric and I'm Edward Elric, the Full Metal Alchemist."

"You're an alchemist?" Flamel looked taken aback, looking quickly towards his wife who also looked shocked. Edward thought nothing of the man's surprise, he knew that in some towns on the outskirts of Amestris alchemists were a rare commodity. "Where from?" The man questioned.

"We were born in Risembool, but are currently staying in Central," Edward left out the last bit _'that's if Central is still standing'_. Once Alphonse was strong enough, and they were pointed to the nearest train station they would be able to find out for themselves what had happened. "How far is central from here?"

Both the man and his wife looked confused. "Central?" The man asked quizzically, "Is that in Britain?"

Edward froze. Beside him, his brother stiffened. Even if these people lived in the countryside, everyone knew of Amestris's capital city. Which could only mean one thing.

They weren't in Amestris anymore.

"Do you have a map?" Edward asked quickly, trying not to let himself panic. First things first, in order to get home, he needed to find out where exactly they were. The old man nodded, exiting the room momentarily before returning with a map in hand and laying it on the table in front of the boys.

"What in truth's name…" Ed whispered glancing at the unfamiliar territories scattered across the map. Amestris wasn't anywhere to be found.

What did this mean?

His thoughts were broken as Flamel's wife spoke up. "You children seem to be a long way from home," The woman stated matter-of-factly, clearly aware of the boy's surprise, "Your parents will be worried."

Alphonse shifted uncomfortably, "We don't have parents, ma'am. Our mom passed when we were young." He trailed off at the look of shock he received from the woman.

"And your father?" Nicolas questioned, eyebrow raised.

"Missing." Alphonse decided to leave out the part where their father had gone missing as they tried to stop an immortal being from destroying their country.

"Surely you must have a guardian? There's no way you're old enough to have graduated school already," She seemed genuinely concerned to have found two young children wandering around the countryside.

"Brother is my guardian, and the military is brother's guardian," Al explained, ignoring the hard stares from both Flamel's, "We haven't been in school since brother was 9 and I was 8, but don't worry!" He continued as if sensing the Flamel's growing shock, "We learned a lot from our father's books and even studied under an alchemy teacher."

Edward shivered at the mention of their teacher. "Violent housewife more like it," He mumbled under his breath.

"What are your plans now?" Nicolas asked, glancing at the two boys with the same air of concern as his wife, but also with a keen sense of curiosity. It was incredibly rare to find anyone studying the ancient art of alchemy, let alone two young children. "Do you plan to enroll in Hogwarts? Surely the both of you are of age."

"What the fuck is a hogwits?" Ed asked.

"Brother language!" Al exclaimed, elbowing his brother lightly before apologizing for his brother's crassness.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Perenelle elaborated. "The biggest magic school in Britain".

Edward couldn't help the dry laugh that escaped his lips. These people were definitely crazy. "Magic is a fairy-tale that parents tell their children in bedtime stories," During his travels throughout Amestris he had met many very interesting people, and heard many stories and tales. Magic however, was in its own ballpark of crazy. No way in hell was he about to let this old couple bullshit him.

Nicolas glanced at the two boys curiously; they had no idea what magic was, but yet they studied alchemy, "I can assure you, child, that magic very much exists, just as much as alchemy exists."

"You're batshit," Edward stated bluntly, ignoring the way Al elbowed him again. "Alchemy is a science, it has laws. Magic is a fairytale."

Perenelle's lips pulled taut, clearly disapproving of the boy's choice of words, "I would suggest that you watch your language under my roof boy," Her voice was stern as she pulled out her wand and summoned over the kettle from the other room. She watched mirthfully as the two boys froze in shock, staring at her as if she'd grown a second head.

"What the hell did you put in our food this morning?" Ed couldn't move.

Surely, he must be hallucinating.

Magic wasn't real, it couldn't be real.

He had dedicated his entire life to the science of Alchemy, to the laws of equivalent exchange. Where were the laws in magic? Magic went against everything he had ever learned. Everything he had known. 

Nicolas chuckled at the boy's wonderment, completely oblivious to the inner turmoil that racked the two children in front of him. "It seems we have a lot to teach each other".

* * *

**Present Day**

Edward stared blankly up at the darkness of his cell, recalling the dizzying flurry of events that had happened since the Flamel's had taken both brothers under their wing. Firstly, in exchange for teaching the boy's magic, Edward had shown Flamel the inner workings of Amestrian alchemy, much to the wonderment of the old man. Furthermore, during their free time, they had found themselves absorbed in research on Britain's alchemy; this was done under the watchful eyes of Nicolas.

That is, until one morning they had woken up only to find both the Flamel's lying stone cold on the living room floor.

He slammed his fist against the floor as he remembered the lifeless eyes of the old man and his wife. Whoever had done that to the innocent couple would pay; he would make sure of that. Now if only he could figure a way out of this damn cell.

He just hoped his brother was fairing better than he was.


	2. In a Quandry

"Brother where are you...?" Alphonse whispered into the darkness of his cell. No one answered back. Shifting continuously on the cold ground beneath him, trying to get comfortable, he almost found himself wishing that he was still in the suit of armor.

Before he could continue that train of thought he stopped himself. He was lucky. Unlike Ed, he had been able to wake up in his original body. Truth knows he wasn't about to tempt fate by questioning whatever circumstances had allowed this to happen.

Despite this, his curiosity raged beneath the surface. Too much had been left unexplained, unanswered.

Like why didn't Ed have his arm and leg?

Sure, Ed had become used to living with automail and he hadn't seemed bothered by it, yet Al couldn't help but relish in the unfairness of it all.

' _Why me?'_ He wondered silently.

His brother had been the one continuously risking his life on numerous occasions, even joining the military to get Al his body back. If anyone deserved a break it was Ed.

His thoughts were interrupted as the wall in front of him began to creak, filling his ears with the all too familiar sound of stone being deconstructed and reconstructed or as wizards called it - Transfiguration. The next time he blinked, a small door stood across from him, flooding his cell with light as a group of wizards stepped forward. Al said nothing as ropes shot from one of their wands.

He was led silently out of the cell and down a long hallway. The hallway itself was nothing more than a blank wall, but every few meters a gold plack shone from the center of the wall. He belated realized that they were probably other holding cells, maybe even his brothers.

After a few minutes of being led around the maze of interconnecting paths, Al was not so gently thrown into a room resembling that of an interrogation room. The wizards guided him over to one of the two chairs before retreating to the corners of the room behind him, wands at the ready. The third wizard stood guard at the door, as the fourth took a seat in front of Al.

Al fidgeted nervously in his seat as the wizard glanced over him, eyes unfriendly.

"What was your relationship with Nicolas Flamel?" The wizard asked, voice curt, and to the point.

Al opened his mouth before shutting it again, unsure of how to answer. What was his relationship with the Flamel's? On one hand, the man and his wife had graciously opened their house to Edward and him, but on the other hand, Nicolas and the two Eric's had shared an ever-alternating exchange of information; it was mutualism in its purest forms.

"He was teaching us alchemy," Al explained, careful to leave out key pieces of info, specifically that Nicolas had been teaching them 'British' alchemy, as well as magic. Al could see the wizard was getting increasingly frustrated at his lack of willingness to expand on his answer.

* * *

**Four Months Ago**

The morning air of the meadow was tinged with hints of wildflowers and grass. Alphonse sat on the porch staring intently at the sun rising steadily in the horizon. It had officially been a week since they had arrived at the Flamel's, and still, he felt his mind wandering back to the events before their arrival.

_What had happened to their friends, their family?_

_Their country?_

Al jumped slightly at the sound of the front door opening. He glanced behind him to see Flamel's wife emerging from the cottage.

"What are you thinking about child," Perenelle Flamel gazed down at him with the wisdom of years beyond anything Al could imagine.

Al shrugged drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, eyes never leaving the horizon. "It nothing," he murmured quietly.

Perenelle sat down on the rocking chair next to him. When she and Nicolas had still been in the prime of their youth, they had decided against having children for the fear of having their potential offspring used against them. However, as she glanced down at the boy in front of her, something of a maternal instinct rose in her. "There are often times in life when we may feel powerless," she began, studying the sorrow locked in the boy's eyes. "It is during these times that one must remember that we are merely humans, and the best we can do is to just try and survive each day."

Alphonse looked up at the woman, nodding slowly as her words registered in his mind.

She was right.

Each second, he spent agonizing over things he had no way of knowing, was time that could be used researching a way home.

"Your brother and my husband seem to be getting along just fine," She stated, a hint of mirth entering her voice. It had been a while since Nicolas had found himself engaged with what he described as an 'intellectual equal'.

Al nodded, despite his brother's more than volatile nature, Ed had always seemed to get along with those older than him. "Brother's always been like that," Al couldn't remember the last time Ed had made a friend his own age besides Winry, and Alphonse himself.

"Curious thing your Amestrian alchemy," Perenelle glanced down at him, eyes weary. "There would be many wizards who would like to get their hands on it." She warned, eyes cold as she remembered the countless attempts against her husband to steal his knowledge on the philosopher's stone. "You and your brother would do best to keep your talents to yourself."

Al nodded at the woman's words, fiddling with a piece of grass between his fingers as he thought over their predicament.

How in truth's name were they supposed to get home?

* * *

**Present Day**

"Who are you?" The wizard in front of him asked.

"My name is Alphonse Elric," He repeated for the third time in the past five minutes.

The wizard let out a frustrated groan. "Then why is there no record of you or your brother within any country's database?"

At first, Dawlish hadn't believed his luck. Not only had he landed the most high-profile case of his career, but their key suspects had practically been handed to the ministry on a silver platter. Once he had gotten over his initial shock at the murder of both Nicolas Flamel and his wife, he felt excited at the seemingly clean-cut case that had just landed in his lap. The Flamel's had been living in their cottage with Nicolas's two apprentices when they had died. The wards had shown that no one had trespassed leaving the ministry with two very obvious culprits.

Dawlish, however, had been unprepared when two children were brought in as the perpetrators. The boy in front of him looked hardly older than a fourth-year student at most. In what world did such a child commit murder?

He knew they would be run out to dry if the media ever got word that the ministry suspected two children in the death of one of the most notorious wizards of the century.

"Who killed Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel?" He questioned.

"I don't know," the boy in front of him seemed just as frustrated at the lack of progress they had made.

Alphonse let his head drop against the metal table as the wizard promptly stood up and left the room.

_Brother, where are you?_

* * *

**2 Months Ago**

Edward and Alphonse sat across from each other; their views blocked by the enormous stack of books that separated them. Neither had expected such a small cottage to hold such an expansive library.

' _Magic no doubt_ ,' Al thought brightly.

Ed had his face buried in a history book when he suddenly shot up, eyes wide. "Al, I have an idea, but you're not going to like it."

Alphonse dropped his book, staring up at his brother, silently signaling for Ed to continue.

"What if, after the promised day we were sent to the future?" As if sensing his brother's disbelief, Edward continued hastily. "Here it says that the year is currently 1994 – That's nearly a hundred years ahead of Amestris. What if… Amestris doesn't exist anymore, because Father succeeded in turning the country into a philosopher's stone? That would explain why hardly anyone knows of Amestrian alchemy."

Al felt an icy realization hit him full force.

"But that would mean that everyone, Winry, Granny, Teacher…" Alphonse didn't want to believe they had failed during the promised day, and he could tell from his brother's face that the idea was equally upsetting.

"This map has to be how the remaining countries adapted after the promised day, but I still don't understand what happened to the dwarf in the flask…if he survived then why didn't he conquer all these countries?" Ed whispered breathlessly.

Alphonse was still trying to wrap his head around the possibility of being nearly 100 years in the future. He couldn't believe that their friends and family were gone, all because he had failed to defeat the dwarf in the flash.

**…**

Throughout the following months, both Edward and he dedicated most of their time to learning everything they could about magic in the hopes of finding a way back. After all, surely something that flaunted the rules of equivalent exchange could offer them something that might be of use.

The Flamel's continued to look after the boys, even helping Alphonse to purchase his first wand; Edward had refused, simply stating that he had no need for a wand when he had alchemy. For him, simply studying and understanding magic was enough.

Perenelle had let slip to a few of her close friends over tea that Nicolas had taken in the two boys. It was unsurprising then that the next day the Daily Prophet published an article on the topic. Perenelle shook her head as the boys remained innocently unaware of their notoriety, their faces forever buried in books or debating alchemic topics with Nicolas.

However, despite the progression in their magical education, the Elric's were growing increasingly frustrated.

They were still no closer to finding a way back.

Their progress was ultimately thrown off the rails when one morning they woke to find the Flamel's lying dead in their living room. Alphonse hadn't realized he had let out a strangled cry, until Edward bolted around the corner nearly tripping over the bodies. Al watched as his brother's eyes widened in shock before he dashed to the kitchen and promptly emptied the contents of last night's dinner in the sink.

_Why was this happening?_

_Was Truth still trying to punish them?_

Alphonse knelt down next to Perenelle to check for a pulse, knowing that it was futile. Her eyes stared vacantly back at him. Unable to hold back the tears that fell from his eyes, he gently moved his hand over her face, closing her eyes. This woman had watched over him as his body gained back it's strength after years spent in the gate. Both Perenelle and her husband had shown him more kindness than he deserved.

His grief was interrupted as a series of loud cracks filled the living room. Alphonse heard Edward's shouting from the kitchen before he was knocked unconscious. 

* * *

**Present Day**

"Who killed the Flamels?"

Alphonse hadn't realized he had been daydreaming until he was snapped out of it by the man sitting calmly in front of him. The wizard from earlier had been swapped with someone a bit more intimidating. Clear eyes shone beneath dark skin, studying the boy sitting in front of him.

Alphonse shook his head. "I don't know," he repeated, a renewed sense of grief welling up inside of him.

"I don't know."

**…**

Kingsley Shacklebolt shook his head as he exited the interrogation room. He turned to face the Minister of Magic, his eyebrows drawn together. "You can't possibly be thinking of putting that boy on trial for murder."

Cornelius Fudge shrugged. "We need to charge someone. They were at the scene of the crime and as far as we know, were the only people that had access to the house."

"You know that will never hold up in the Wizengamot," Kingsley stated, narrowing his eyes at the blatant disregard for their judicial process; the only evidence they had on the boys was completely circumstantial.

Cornelius was hardly concerned. After all, he had a reputation to maintain. How would it look if he just released his only two suspects when the entire wizarding community was calling for justice? If they managed to find another lead, he might consider it, but so far they had come up short at every turn.

"Do you have a better idea?" Cornelius turned to Shacklebolt, eyebrows raised. "Surely you can't be suggesting I release our only suspects out into the public? The press would have my neck."

"You will also face backlash once the public realizes you're charging two children with the murders." Shacklebolt retorted.

Cornelius sighed, glancing through the mirror into the interrogation at the boy fidgeting within. The child practically reeked with innocence, wide gold eyes continuously glancing around. "Then pray tell, what's your big idea?"

"Albus Dumbledore."

**...**

The next time the guards came for him was when Ed made his move. He waited patiently until they turned down a secluded hallway before striking. Forcing his body to go limp, he braced himself. The cold ground rushed to meet his body with a cold slap as he let his eyes slip closed, laying perfectly still.

Instantly, the hallway was filled with the voices of his panicked guards.

"Shit, go get Kingsley!" One shouted and Ed could hear the pounding of two sets of footsteps fading around the corner.

He waited until a third guard crouched down beside him, icy fingers pressing into his neck searching for a pulse, before his foot lunged up and connected with the guard's head.

"He's still brea- "A loud thud interrupted the guard and before he could finish his sentence, the man fell unconscious on the floor.

Ed wasted no time in lunging at the fourth wizard; grabbing the man's wrist that had been reaching for the wand hanging out of his pocket, Ed twisted it behind his back, grabbing the wand and holding it to the man's neck.

His breathing was heavy as he forced the guard forward. "You have three seconds to lead me to my brother or end up like your friend over there," Ed growled, nodding his head in the direction of the man passed out on the ground.

It was during times like these he found himself increasingly thankful for Izumi's teachings; harsh as they may have been, it had helped him out of many rough spots. After all, he wasn't about to just sit around and wait for these wizards to declare them guilty for murder. He was getting them out of here.

The wizard struggling in his grip nodded vigorously, clearly anxious not to end up like his companion. Ed released his hold on the man's arm, pushing him forward. "Good choice, get moving."

It wouldn't be long before the man's friends returned with backup. He needed to get to Al before then. It seemed, however, as usual luck was not on his side. They rounded another corner only to be met by a group of five or six wizards, wands all drawn.

"Edward Elric, let that man go," The dark-skinned man Ed recognized from one of his interrogations as Kingsley stepped forward. "If you do, we can start to discuss the release of your brother and yourself."

Ed felt his limbs freeze. His mind was running a mile a minute, going through all the scenarios in his head. The man before him could be lying. After all, the wizards had shown no indication that they planned to let them go. However, if the man was telling the truth that meant he could get Alphonse out of here without having to fight their way out; but could he trust this wizard?

Clearly noticing his hesitation, a wizard behind Kingsley chose the moment to make his own move. Wooden foot took a step forward, blue eye whizzing in its socket. "Petrificus Totalus!"

Ed threw the man, Dawlish, forward, lunging back around the corner just in time to avoid being hit by the spell. He pressed his back against the wall as spells flew towards where he had been standing seconds before. He was outnumbered. If he had any chance of reaching Al he would need to find somewhere to regroup and organize another plan.

Clapping his hands together he pressed them against the wall, quickly jumping through to the other side and closing the hole he had made behind him. The surprised shouts on the other side of the wall faded away as he swiftly broke into a run down a hallway he didn't recognize; this place was like a maze. It would make escaping difficult.

He slowed his pace through the maze of corridors as the sound of voices ahead reached his ears. Pressing himself against the wall, he waited for the voices around the corner to pass before rushing forward, finding himself face to face with a golden doorway.

A loud 'ding' filled the hall and the door slid open before Ed had time to find cover. Frozen like a deer caught in headlights, he could only stare at the group of wizards inside what he now realized was an elevator.

"Well, are you getting in or not?"

Left with no choice, but to get inside in order to keep his cover, he squeezed himself into the throng of wizards, keeping his head lowered and eyes trained on the floor. He could feel his heart beating widely as if the wizards surrounding him would suddenly realize he wasn't one of them and turn on him.

"You might want to hang on lad," Someone nudged him pointing to the handle above his head. He barely had a second to register the words before the elevator was lurching backwards and his hand was grabbing the handle, hanging on for dear life.

' _Fucking wizards and their crazy transportation methods,'_ Ed thought with a newfound sense of nausea, trying his best to keep last night's dinner in his stomach. After what seemed like a never-ending rollercoaster ride, the elevator doors suddenly opened, and a female voice announced their arrival at 'level eight'.

He was forced out of the elevator by the rush of wizards behind him. Forcing his shaky knees to carry him forward, he did his best to blend in with the crowds. Glancing around his surroundings, his breath was momentarily taken away. He was in a large hall with fireplaces up and down both sides of the room. Above him, the roof was a deep shade of blue with golden symbols flashing across it and in the middle of the hall stood a large golden fountain, depicting magical creatures Ed recognized from one of Nicolas's many books.

"There he is!"

Ed's thoughts were interrupted at the shout. He whirled around to see the same group of wizards he had confronted near his cell advancing rapidly towards him. Trying his best to lose them, he let himself be carried away into the bustling crowd, letting them guide him towards the green fireplaces.

A hand suddenly wrapped its way around his wrist, and he spun his head to see the man with the scarred face glaring down at him. "Where do you think you're going boy."

Ed glanced once more from the man to the fireplaces less than a meter away. Deciding he didn't really have a choice, he used as much of his strength as possible to rip his arm from the man's grip before lunging straight into the fireplace closest to him, grabbing the cloak of the man who had entered just seconds before him.

Instantly he was embodied in a rush of tangled limbs, his breath stolen from his chest. He couldn't even gasp as it felt like every organ in his body was being squeezed. Closing his eyes, he tried desperately to keep himself from throwing up his dinner, when suddenly, he landed face-first on a dusty red carpet.

He groaned, waiting for the nausea to subside. _'The old man could have warned me that floo travel was so sickening,'_ Ed grumbled inwardly, ignoring the brief pang of grief at the thought of his deceased mentor.

Forcing his eyes open he waited for the room to stop spinning before rising slowly to his feet.

"I suggest," A low voice drawled suddenly, causing him to freeze in his tracks. "that you tell me what you are doing inside my house."

' _Here we go again,'_ Ed sighed, turning around slowly. Beady black eyes stared down at him from beneath greasy black hair, wand pointed inches away from his face.

" _Well_?" The man spoke slowly, voice curt, but clearly displeased.

Raising his hands in front of him, Ed took a step back.

"Alright, just don't shoot."

* * *

The next time Alphonse was led to the interrogation he had become all too familiar with, he began to ready himself for another wave of questioning. He was unprepared, however, when the door opened and an impossibly ancient-looking man stepped inside the room.

The man's blue eyes shined beneath half-moon glasses, and Al froze. He recognized the face from one of Nicolas's books. "You're _Albus Dumbledore_!" Al exclaimed. Why was the headmaster of Britain's magic school here?

"Indeed, it would seem so," Dumbledore chuckled mirthfully, amused at the boy's surprise. With a wave of his wand, the restraints around Al's wrists vanished. "It's a pleasure to meet one Nicolas's apprentice, I trust that we won't be needing those."

Al could only nod, "Yes sir."

"Excellent!"

Al fidgeted at the man's eccentric response.

"It would seem we have much to discuss young Mr. Elric."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank's for reading!  
> Comments, suggestions, and advice are always appreciated.


	3. Unexpected Guests

The silence that echoed around the room was suffocating. Ed held his breath, hands still raised defensively. The man before him looked increasingly aggravated at the intrusion. The air between them was tense; both ready to spring into action at the slightest movement.

"Sorry wrong house," Ed tried to cheekily break the ice, but the man didn't move.

Still trying his best to look as harmless as possible, he stole a few glances around the man's house, studying his surroundings. Surprisingly enough, despite the overwhelming decrepit atmosphere of the room, each wall was covered from floor to ceiling in books. Most of the tomes looked ancient, as if they would fall apart at the slightest touch. Dim candlelight illuminated the sparse furniture that littered the room, consisting of a meager sofa, an old armchair, and a coffee table.

 _'Nice place,'_ Ed thought sarcastically, unaware that the man had noticed his moment of inattention.

A fact, he realized a second too late.

Suddenly alert, Edward lifted his head.

Their eye met.

The next thing he knew the world around him rushed away, replaced with the sound of explosions and screams. Emergency vehicles rushed past, their sirens resounding through the chaos-filled streets.

He was back in central. Back at the Promised Day.

"What the fuck," Ed whispered to himself. Across the street stood Hohenheim, but his father seemed to stare right through him. It was as if he was invisible.

Within seconds the streets of central were replaced with the underground laboratory beneath the city. Hordes of artificial soldiers rushed straight through him, sending a chill up his spine. All around him were his companions, engaged in combat and clearly struggling against the massive army.

The scene changed again.

This time he was back inside the jail cell at Fort Briggs. Alphonse sat across from him. Their heads were pressed together in hushed conversation.

Realization struck him like a slap to the face.

' _My memories...?'_

What was happening?

The next thing he knew he was standing in front of Maria Ross's burnt corpse. Mustang stood over him, fist pulled back.

**_Don't forget your place._ **

The word's echoed in his head and his confusion gave way to panic. His stomach somersaulted as the memory of burnt flesh reached his nose. Nauseated, he brought his hand up to his mouth, trying to stay calm.

The man was messing with his head, his memories. That was the only explanation. Nicolas hadn't mentioned anything about wizards being able to read minds, but it made sense in the sickest of ways. 

His world span.

The memories came more quickly.

He resisted the urge to throw up. 

' _Get out of my head bastard!'_

Next came Gracia telling them not to give up, lest her husband's death be in vain.

' _Get out!'_

Maes showing him pictures of Elicia.

' _Bastard!'_

Mustang's team congratulating him on passing the state alchemist certification.

' _Get the fuck out of my head!'_

Tucker beaming at the configuration of his daughter and dog combined into one ghastly creature.

' _Stop...'_

Last came the sight of his house burning to the ground, Alphonse's suit of armor illuminated by the flames. The image was followed by his screams as their basement floor was drenched with the blood of his missing leg.

**_Take my arm, my heart! Anything! Just give me back my brother!_ **

He tried to block out the images that flashed through his mind, his breath coming out in short gasps. His heart pounded in his chest and he was unable to quell the wave of nausea that assaulted him. As his eyes caught sight of the deformed result of their attempted transmutation, he went numb; his mind finally gave way to the intruder, his energy was sucked away.

**_Help. Someone…Mom…_ **

**_..._ **

Snape was unexpectedly thrown from the boy's mind in a rush. Pale-faced and exhausted, he rose to his feet. In the course of his time spent within the boy's memories, somehow he had collapsed onto his hands and knees. Whatever it was that he been expecting to see, it hadn't been close to the nightmare he had been thrust into. If there was one thing he always prided himself on, it was his ability to handle any situation thrown his way, but as he witnessed the horrors of his intruder's past, his mask had momentarily slipped away.

Falling back into his armchair, he belated glanced down at the unconscious form of the boy. The child's breath was shallow, thin beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead; the invasion into his mind, it seemed, had been too much. The art of legilimency required finesse, lest the act take a toll on its participants. A fact, it seems, he had briefly forgotten and one in which he would have to reflect on later.

Right now he needed to contact Dumbledore.

The darkness of his sitting room was momentarily lit up by the silver glow of his Patronus, before once again being swallowed by candlelight. After formulating a plan of action, he focused his attention on the unmoving form on his floor.

Just who was this boy?

From what Snape had seen, the blonde was far from a child. His time spent within whatever military crew the blonde had been recruited to, surely promised maturity beyond that of any Hogwart's student of similar age.

' _Such power for one so young,_ ' The thought popped up suddenly and with it, he became all too aware of the implications the kid's appearance could have. Despite the headmaster's infamous secrecy, even with those he trusted, Snape wasn't stupid. Dumbledore had plans for Potter. It was no secret that the old man believed Voldemort to be alive, hiding in the shadows; for years Dumbledore had been planning for his return. The boy in front of him did not fit into these plans. A fact that the headmaster would not be keen on.

After levitating the child onto the sofa, Snape sat back to await Dumbledore's arrival. His mind wandered back to the boy's memories, both disturbed and increasingly curious.

However, his musings were interrupted as green flames filled the fireplace before him. Out stepped the ever-composed headmaster of Hogwarts, followed by the stumbling form of a young boy. It was immediately apparent to Snape that the child accompanying the headmaster was somehow related to his earlier guest. The gold eyes and hair were unmistakably similar. Given the close proximity of age, he would have to guess they were brothers.

The child's eyes widened as he caught sight of the boy passed out on his couch and within seconds he was kneeling next to the boy, checking him over frantically.

Snape ignored the questioning look sent his way by the headmaster. Instead, he leveled his gaze with the old man and motioned to the adjoining room. After a quick word with the boy, Dumbledore followed suit, smile vanishing from his face.

"It seems you've already become acquainted with young Edward," Dumbledore stated, shutting the door behind them.

"Who are these boys?" Snape chose to ignore the old man's pleasantries. He didn't like to be disturbed during his break from teaching, especially not at his house and even more so by children.

"They're alchemists, apprentices to the Flamels," Dumbledore narrowed his eyes, lost in a line of thought that Snape had no hope or interest in deciphering. "It appears that Nicolas's students have landed themselves in some hot water with the ministry."

Ah yes, the Flamel's deaths.

Like keys in a lock, it suddenly clicked. Snape had heard of the mysterious children apprenticed by the Flamels shortly before their sudden end. After all, there wasn't a wizard in Great Britain who hadn't heard.

"The minister it seems would like to avoid backlash from the public, and charging two children with murder would certainly give rise to complaint."

"Obviously," Snape drawled, unsure of what this all had to do with the blonde suddenly showing up uninvited on his step.

"Given that the ministry is unable to locate any kind of records or family of the boys, I was called in for counsel. However, before I could speak with them, young Edward decided to take matters into his own hands and launched his escape from the ministry."

Snape snorted. "Of course, he did."

Why wasn't he surprised.

"As for how he ended up here," Dumbledore continued, chuckling slightly. "Simply coincidence."

"I see," said Snape, slowly. "And what, pray tell, do you plan to do with the children, Albus?"

Dumbledore sighed, eyebrows drawn together in such a way that signaled the headmaster was equally as uncertain about how to deal with the two boys.

"For the moment I imagine it would be best for everyone if they were to stay here."

What.

Snape could feel every muscle in his body tense in protest.

Dumbledore continued, either failing to notice, or simply ignoring the potion master's obvious discontent at the idea of harbouring the children. "At least until another residence can be located or the school year starts" The headmaster paused, eyes narrowing. "There's no record of any Edward or Alphonse Elric in all of Europe."

"You think they're lying?" Snape was all too familiar with the headmaster's paranoia about strangers.

"Nicolas trusted the boys."

"Nicolas was old and nearing the end of his life. Surely his judgment could have been impaired." Snape pointed out.

"Either way, it's best for us to keep an eye on them until we can find out more." Dumbledore nodded in agreeance. "What are your thoughts on the boys, Severus?"

After a moment, Snape answered tensely. "The eldest it seems is at the very least potentially dangerous."

Dumbledore seemed to consider this, glancing momentarily in the direction of the sitting room. "All the more reason for you to keep a close watch on them."

Snape sneered at the thought of babysitting children.

As if finally sensing his reservations, Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "Of course, this will only be temporary. Just until we can find out more information. I'll keep in touch."

Before Snape could get another word in, Dumbledore was gone. A loud crack echoed through his kitchen and he was left to the silence of his own curiosity, still wondering what Dumbledore had planned.

**...**

Severus Snape had always been a man of scholarship. To him, life was but one large equation. Problems, no matter how complicated, could be solved with information, facts, and _knowledge_. There was always an answer if one simply looked. It was for this reason that he had begrudgingly come to respect Albus; the man always had an answer, a plan. Yet, rarely did Albus deem it necessary to share his plans – A fact that irritated Severus more than he'd like.

It was the lack of knowledge, of knowing that resulted in oversights that had too often caused his life to come crashing down around him. Had he known that disclosing the prophecy to Voldemort would play out the way it had, then everything could have been avoided; Lily's death could have been avoided. When one acted on misinformation and ignorance, the end result was to trap yourself in your own helplessness to correct your missteps. It made you powerless, completely reliant on others.

He had learned this the hard way.

The two boys he had been tasked with observing were becoming an increasingly convoluted problem. It had already been a week since their arrival, and yet they remained as shrouded in mystery as they had since the beginning. Each time he found himself starting to understand the boys, they would do something or say something that would render his findings obsolete.

He was torn.

On one hand, they presented an air of enigmatic force, operating with the bodies of children, yet so far from the definition of what it meant to be a child. However, on the rare occasion, he would catch glimpses of a rare sort of naivety that seemed so out of place beneath the hardened exteriors.

"Does it make a difference, being Muggle-born?" The younger of the two had asked one evening, lifting his head from where his nose had been buried in 'Hogwarts a History'.

Just like that, a crack materialized in his mask. He remembered Lily's green eyes filled with naive wonder. That same innocence shone beneath golden eyes, so similar to Lily, yet so different. The child, of course, could never come close to her, but for a moment Snape felt himself whisked away into the past when Lily had asked him the very same question.

"No. It doesn't make any difference."

The boy had nodded, returning silently to the book in front of him.

The next day the boy had approached him again at breakfast. "Are you Muggle-born?"

"No," Snape replied tartly, hating the way this simple question brought forth memories he would prefer to forget. "Half-blood." He spat irritably.

The boy once again nodded before disappearing back to his brother's side in the sitting room.

Severus belated realized the boys were trying to collect information on their host in much the same way he was attempting to achieve.

After all, knowledge was power.

After that, he started to notice the similarities between the boys and Albus. An observation that made him very uncomfortable and increasingly irritable. He began to see the way their eyes followed him when he entered the room, analyzing his every move, studying him. They were planning something; desperately seeking answers to some unsaid goal. Once again Snape found himself in the dark, one of his greatest pet-peeves.

"I need to speak to Dumbledore," The eldest of the boys suddenly exclaimed at dinner, less than a week before the start of term.

That was something Snape could get behind. His patience at sharing his living quarters with the two boys was becoming strained. As unusual they may be, he still despised the idea of people intruding on his personal life.

The sooner Dumbledore got rid of them, the better.

* * *

Spinner's End couldn't have been more different from the peaceful cottage the Flamel's had called home. Lush meadows had been replaced with dark alleyways near a dirty river, filled with decrepit houses, disused factories, and broken-down streetlamps. Ed smirked when he realized the state of their lodging's perfectly mirrored the owner of the house.

Since their initial meeting, Ed had tried to steer clear of the black-haired wizard, which the old man had clearly ordered to spy on them. Instead, both Alphonse and he had tried to make the best of their lodgings. As depressing as the house was, they didn't have much of a choice in the matter; the ministry had yet to clear them as suspects in the Flamel's murders. This meant, that for the time being at least, they were stuck. A fact that was really starting to piss him off. He had encountered enough incompetent law enforcement back in Amestris to last him a lifetime, the last thing he needed was to be accused of crimes he hadn't committed.

"This is ridiculous," He muttered late one night, causing Alphonse to sigh and lower his book. "How long are we going to be stuck here?"

"It's been less than two weeks brother." Alphonse pointed out.

"Exactly!" Ed exclaimed, ignoring Al's pointed look in his direction. "Clearly the law enforcement here doesn't know what they're doing. We're better off searching for Flamel's killer ourselves."

"Patience brother," Alphonse sighed, setting his book down. Aside from his very obvious case of cabin fever, Ed had always hated leaving things to other people. Even as kids Ed had never liked to sit still for long, a fact that had irritated the schoolhouse teacher in Risembool on numerous occasions. Now after years in the military spent basically exposing an entire network of government corruption, this behavioral trait had only been exacerbated.

"But _Al_ , I swear I'm going to go crazy stuck here, "Ed whined, throwing his hands in the air for emphasis. "I can practically _feel_ the bastard watching us all the time."

"The bastard has a name," Al chuckled, "Severus Snape, potions master at the magic school here."

Ed narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "And how, do tell, did you figure this out? Don't tell me you can read minds now too?"

"I asked," Alphonse deadpanned. "You know, you could always try having a conversation with Severus if you want to know something,"

Ed shook his head adamantly. "And give the bastard a chance to read my mind again? No way in hell is that happening. After all, the man has practically kidnapped us!"

"Right," Alphonse drawled, clearly amused. "I doubt anyone would take pleasure in kidnapping you, brother."

Ed theatrically fell back in his chair, hands held over his heart. "Oh, the betrayal, from my very kin, my own brother. I've been forsaken."

"That's it, I'm going to bed." Alphonse grabbed his book, promptly exiting the room in exasperation.

Edward began to clean up the mess of books around the sitting room before following Al to bed. He knew on some level that his brother was right, he needed to have patience, but to what extent? How long would they wait here for their names to be cleared? They still needed to find a way home, on top of potentially having to find the true culprit responsible for the deaths of Nicolas and Perenelle. Yet somehow, they had found themselves stuck at some schoolteacher's house in the middle of no-where for who knows how long.

He needed a plan, but first, he needed information on the ongoing investigation, along with access to a more comprehensive magical library.

As he laid down next to the sleeping form of his brother, a thought suddenly struck him.

He needed information.

Hogwarts had information.

He needed to get to Hogwarts.

The next morning, he wasted no time in relaying this epiphany to Al, who was apparently not as convinced.

"Pray tell, how do you intend to get Dumbledore to allow you access to a _school_ as an accused _double-homicide_ suspect." Al glanced at him skeptically.

Ah yes, Alphonse, ever the voice of reason.

"We studied under Flamel, that must at least count for something. Maybe the old-man would hire me as a teacher." There was no way Ed would ever agree to attend as a student, therefore by process of elimination, signing on as a teacher seemed like the next step up. However, if Al wasn't convinced before, he now looked downright disbelieving.

" _You_ …" He paused as if trying to digest the new information. " _teach…..children_."

"If Severass or whatever his name is, can do it, surely it can't be that hard." After all, the bastard hardly seemed like the nurturing type. "Besides, Hogwarts not only has a library, but surely one of the greatest magical learning institutes in the country might have someone who might know something that could help us get home."

The room went silent as Alphonse thought over what his brother was proposing. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to ask."

"That's the brother I know and love!" Ed smiled triumphantly. "Now we just have to get the bastard to get us in touch with the old man."

"Severus, his name is Severus."

"If you say so," Ed shrugged.

" _Brother."_

"What, the bastard doesn't care."

" _Ed_."

"Fine Al," Edward's resolve crumbled. "But only because we need him."

Al sighed but accepted that was the best he was going to get.

The next step, talk to the professor and hopefully book a one-way ticket to Hogwarts by the end of the week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Comments, suggestions, and advice are always appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story in almost ten years, as well as my first time posting to this site.  
> I've never written a crossover for FMAxHarry Potter before, so this will be a learning curve, but I'm very excited!
> 
> Please leave a comment and let me know what you think. I tried really hard to try and think of an original idea for this genre of fics, something I don't think has been done before.
> 
> Crossposted to Fanfiction.net


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